The Sapphire Cross

“Well, no, sir,” said the valet; “but if you’ll step up, he’ll see you in his bed-room.”

And, for his own sake, having his lord’s future somewhat at heart, the servant could not refrain from displaying his eagerness to get the inopportune visitor away from the breakfast-room, lest Sir Murray or some guest should encounter him.

“It’s all right, my man – never mind me. I’m hungry, and if Sir Murray Gernon does come, I’m only his lordship’s confidential man of business, d’yer see?”

The valet nodded, and stood staring while the early visitor displayed his vigorous appetite.

“That the young lady I met in the hall?” said Mr Braham, coolly.

“Young lady, sir?” said the valet, inquiringly.

“Now, look here, my fine fellow,” said the money-lender: “take my advice. Keep friends with me, and, I think, it will be better for you in the long run. I might find it necessary to write and ask you a few questions, and I should expect satisfactory answers. I dare say you have a pencil – haven’t you?”

The valet nodded, while the visitor busied himself with his pocket-book.

“Look here, then! here’s a scrap of paper for you to make memorandums on, ready to tell me anything I want, specially keeping in mind any movements his lordship may make. You see, he’s forgetful, and don’t write to me, and a long journey like this, to find him gone, would be rather a nuisance, do you see? Ah! I see you understand; and, I dare say, when you’ve fairly worn out that piece of paper, I can find you another.”

Now, as the said piece of paper was a five-pound note, Mr Willis, his lordship’s valet, had no difficulty at all in promising to make the necessary memoranda. It was strange, too, how very much Mr Braham appeared to change in his sight. It would be a queer thing, thought the valet, if his lordship’s confidential man of business couldn’t have a bit of breakfast after his journey; so, requesting the visitor to ring when he was ready to go up to his lordship’s room, he prepared to leave.

“No, don’t go, my man,” said Braham, “I’ve just done. That was the young lady, I suppose?”

“Yes, sir; that’s her,” said Willis.

“Ah! Nice girl. Thanks – yes, you in ay open a bottle of claret. Fine place this, my man. If I were you, I should stick to his lordship. Money is tight in the city, sometimes – eh? Ha – ha – ha! We know – eh? But it will all come right; and if I were you, I should go in for the butlership. It’ll come to that by-and-by, I dare say.”

Mr Braham condescended to wink at the servant, and the valet made bold to wink in reply; and, at last rising, Mr Braham was ushered into Lord Maudlaine’s room.

“De do, Mr Braham?” said his lordship, languidly; and then, as the door closed on the valet: “Con-found you! what the deuce brought you here?”

“Customary conveyance, my lord,” said the Jew, coolly.

“But what could induce you to come down here and spoil all?” exclaimed the Viscount.

“Your honourable lordship’s extreme want of punctuality,” said the unwelcome visitor.

“Punctuality! – what do you mean?” said his lordship, fiercely.

“Nothing – nothing,” said the Jew, nonchalantly, as he lolled back in his chair, after helping himself to one of the cigars on the table, and preparing to smoke. “I see from your lordship’s freedom of conversation, that you possess the happy independent spirit given by money. I see you are quite prepared.”

“Prepared – prepared for what?” gasped the recumbent debtor.

“Oh! only to meet my demands! I did wait a week; but as I did not hear from you, I was obliged to come and remind you.”

“Remind me of what?” exclaimed the Viscount.

“Oh! only that time’s up!”

Lord Maudlaine sank back upon his pillow, half stupefied.

“Impossible,” he pondered: he had made no memorandum – he never did of these disagreeable transactions; but it was impossible that six months could have elapsed, and he said so.

“Six months, my lord? Why, what put it into your head that the paper had six months to run?”

“Why, I asked you to make it six months, and you said you would try.”

“Well, I did try, my clear lord. But you astonish me! Did you not read the bills over, when you put your name to them?”

“Confound you! you know I did not!” cried the Viscount, angrily. “They were only for three months, then?”

“That’s all, my lord. But there – what does it matter? Give me a cheque for the amount, and have done with it. There will be so much weight off your mind.”

Lord Maudlaine grinned in a manner that indicated how gladly he would have liked to wring his tormentor’s neck, but he crushed down his wrath.

“Well, what’s to be done? I can’t pay.”

“Very sorry, my lord – but you know the result, without Sir Murray Gernon would – ”

“Hang you, be quiet!” exclaimed the other, fiercely. “He knows that I am poor; but would you upset all, now that matters have gone so far? You must renew again.”

“But the cost to your lordship will be ruinous,” expostulated the Jew.

“What do you care for that? Look here, Braham: all is going on as well as possible – I only want time. If you clap me in a sponging-house now, you will not get a penny, for Sir Murray’s pride would never get over it. I could never show myself here again. You must renew.”

“Can’t,” said Braham, shaking his head – “can’t, indeed. Money is more and more valuable every day.”

“So is time to me,” said his lordship, grimly. “Now, look here, Braham: is such a chance as this to be played with?”

“Thousand pities to lose it.”

“Thousand pities – yes!” exclaimed the Viscount, excitedly. “Yes, I’d give a thousand pounds sooner than be thrown off now.”

“Well,” said the Jew, “I don’t want to be hard. On those terms – terms, mind, that you offer yourself – I’ll renew for another three months; but mind this: I’ll have the money to the day, or you know the consequences. If the money is not paid, you will be taken, even if it is at the church door.”

“Terms! – what terms?” stammered the Viscount. “I offered no terms.”

“Your lordship said that you would give a thousand pounds for three months’ reprieve,” said his visitor, coolly.

“Pooh! absurd! You are mad,” said the Viscount.

“Oh! I beg pardon,” said Braham, rising. “I understood you to say so. As your lordship pleases.”

“Sit down there, for Heaven’s sake, Braham. What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing – nothing, my lord; but pray excuse me. Time is nothing to you; it is everything to me.”

“By George! what a position,” muttered the unhappy Viscount. “There, look here: you’d let me off for another three months, on the same terms as the last – eh?”

The Jew shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. His hand was already upon the door, he opened it, and had passed out, when, half mad with the prospect before him, the Viscount shrieked: